


Priori Pevensie

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bad Jokes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Tumnus is a bad little faun, as Erik soon finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone somewhere commented that Erik should meet Mr. Tumnus (because James McAvoy), and my brain went in a completely terrible direction with it. (I guess, to wit: Mr. Tumnus likes his "special tea" the way that Sean and Alex like those funny cigarettes.)

Erik is searching in one of Charles' myriad wardrobes for a spare shirt – they haven't quite figured out how to send away their laundry yet now that the mansion is in use again, and Charles has already admitted in between lots of embarrassed coughing that he's never washed so much as a sock in his life – when it happens. One minute, he's standing in the midst of a cluster of ugly coats; the next, he's face-down in snow, with more falling softly on his head.

"What in the hell …" Erik murmurs, standing quickly. He hears a shuffling and then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of red. "Who's there?" he barks. For several seconds, there's no response; then, gradually, a small-ish creature peeks out from behind a tree. "Who … what … are you?" Erik asks as it makes its way out from behind the thick trunk completely.

The creature grins affably at him. "I'm Mr. Tumnus," he says, and looks Erik up and down. "I'm a faun," he continues, which, Erik thinks, must explain the antlers and the hooves. It still doesn't explain why this Mr. Tumnus has a human torso and can fucking talk, however, and Erik privately vows to put a stop to his and Charles' vodka martini drinking contests, or at least to limit them to once or three times a week, because this seems like a notable consequence.

"You look cold," Tumnus says, and Erik shrugs, though his face is still chilled from its brief trip against the snow-covered ground, and the short-sleeved polo he's wearing isn't doing much for his bare arms. "You can follow me to my home," Tumnus offers, and beckons for Erik to follow. Deciding that he could probably still summon up something metal to use as a weapon if need be, even if this place is a bit queer, he trods after the faun, leaving heavy, large footprints behind him.

Mr. Tumnus' home is small, yet cozy. He sets the packages he was carrying when he first met Erik down, and quickly gets a fire going. "Would you like some tea?" he asks, and Erik, staring blearily at the red scarf around the creature's neck, his mind elsewhere, blinks, dazed.

"Uh, sure. I guess."

"Wonderful." Mr. Tumnus smiles and turns away, busying himself with his newfound task. While he brews his tea, Erik lapses back into his own thoughts: Shaw, the mansion, Shaw, Charles, Raven's pretty blue skin, Shaw. He's once again surprised when Mr. Tumnus interrupts his thoughts, this time by pressing a warm cup with steam rolling off the top into his hands. "Careful, it's hot," the faun cautions him, and Erik thanks him briefly and then takes a small sip. He's thirstier than he thought, and soon, half the cup is gone. Mr. Tumnus sits across the room now, watching him with a measured expression.

"So what is this place?" Erik asks. "Are you a mutant? Do people here treat you differently because of that?"

Mr. Tumnus looks troubled. "This is Narnia," he explains slowly. "But as for your other question, I'm not sure what you mean."

Erik regards him critically. "Surely not everybody here looks like you," he observes. Mr. Tumnus shakes his head. "So where I'm from, that makes you different." Perhaps 'mutant' isn't popular terminology in this strange land yet. Erik has to admit that, prior to meeting Charles, he'd never thought of his metal manipulation powers in such terms, either.

Mr. Tumnus is still considering his words. "There are other creatures like myself, fauns and other wood-folk," he says finally. "And there is the White Witch. She is … human," Tumnus notes.

Erik feels strange suddenly. "Do many humans come here?" he asks, somehow already knowing the answer.

Tumnus regards him full-on, his furry face solemn. "No," he says softly, and Erik is starting to feel woozy now. "Only the White Witch. But there is a prophecy that this may soon change; that Narnia may once again be ruled by young kings and queens." He skitters a bit closer to Erik. "Tell me, my friend, did you bring anybody with you to this land today?"

"No," Erik replies shortly, and then faints where he's sitting. Mr. Tumnus helps him roll into a safe position on the floor, and catches Erik's cup just before it has a chance to clatter to the ground and break. He sniffs the inside delicately, and decides that he possibly overestimated how much herb the human would need to fall asleep; though in his defense, Tumnus thinks as he begins to pick through Erik's pockets, the man is very tall.

He finds some strange currency on Erik's person, as well as some identification. Tumnus cannot easily say Erik's last name, but he has a feeling that it's just as well, as the man does not seem to have much to do with any Narnian prophecy. Still smiling, he pats Erik briefly on the head. "You may not be a Son of Adam, my friend," he says softly, and begins to unwind the scarf from a previous guest from around his neck, tossing it atop the pile of gifts that he only recently lifted from their previous owner, "but you'll do well enough."


	2. Mutants to the Rescue

It's been a while since Charles has seen Erik. After asking around and even poking into people's minds for a bit, he concludes that something may, in fact, be wrong. "I can't actually feel his mind," Charles notes during dinner. "When was the last time anyone saw him?"

Everyone looks around. Finally, Alex volunteers, "When I walked by this one room, there was a closet wide open. Maybe he was organizing his collection of murder hats?" Sean and Hank both snicker, but realization finally dawns on Charles.

"A closet ... you mean the wardrobe on the third floor?" he asks Alex.

The youth shrugs, his fork poised halfway to his mouth and loaded with mashed potatoes. "Yeah, I guess. Whatever," he mutters.

Charles sighs. "I believe I know where Erik is." He wonders whether he should go alone, but then decides that, in the strange world beyond the closet in the Xavier mansion, there is safety in numbers. "Everybody eat up, and then meet me upstairs."

*

Narnia is as cold as Charles remembers, and as soon as they arrive, Alex immediately whining because he'd insisted on coming there with his self-altered sleeveless sweatshirt and is now wearing a hideous coat that belonged to Charles' great-grandmother (and still smells like her). "Stop being a baby," Raven scoffs at him. "We're here to find Erik." Privately, Charles agrees, though he suspects it's going to be easier than it might be if they weren't in a world in which only approximately a dozen human beings had ever set foot.

Sure enough, their arrival arouses immediate suspicion, and soon, they're being fairly dragged aboard a large carriage by a couple of rough-looking creatures who make little secret of the fact that they're armed. "Let's go peacefully," Charles tells the group quietly, and reluctantly, they do, though Hank looks dubious and Alex outright snarls when one of the creatures pokes him with the blunt end of its weapon.

When they arrive at a large castle that seems to be made entirely of icicles, Sean snickers. "It's not as big as Charles' place," he announces, and Charles can't help but feel a little smug. He notices that they're being herded and allows it momentarily, reaching out and trying to connect his mind to Erik's. That's when he remembers: "I don't think we can use our powers here," he murmurs to everybody, and they look dismayed. Raven, who has already been walking around in her blue form at the mansion, instinctively tries to morph into her blonde disguise, but to no avail. Sean and Alex look similarly dismayed, though both seem to decide that it's best for them not to try to scream or destroy anything in this strange place with energy rings. Hank, however, sums up their predicament best:

"Well, crap."

They're led through the doors of the castle and down a long hallway, and that's when Charles notices that the woman sitting on a large, ornate throne, an ugly crown that looks like it's growing out of her skull atop her head, looks strangely familiar. "Emma Frost?" he murmurs before he remembers that she probably has a royal title. The sharp jab to his shoulder is unnecessary, then, but unsurprising. "You will show respect to the White Witch!" one of the guards hisses, and Charles inclines his head in a show of mock-subservience. "Your majesty," he says, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Emma smirks. "I wondered when you'd come after your boyfriend."

Charles ignores the surprised murmuring that surrounds him now (save for Raven, who just snorts, "called it" and crosses her arms), in favor of pleading his case. "Can we see Erik, please? All we wish is to leave this place peacefully."

Emma still looks bemused. "He stays," she tells him flatly. "Shaw has use for him, and he's nice and powerless here. Also," she adds, her brow creasing ever so slightly, "he's a dick."

"Fine," Charles sighs, and the creatures flanking him must have decided that he was being rude again, because one of them kicks him in the shin, making him wince. "I ... can we at least talk to him?" he asks, a bit desperate at this point.

Emma appears to consider this. "You go alone," she orders. "Your students stay here." Charles nods, and allows himself to be led off by the creature who seems to enjoy striking him. He suffers yet another blow to the back before arriving at a small cell. Two occupants become quickly visible: A half-faun creature that seems to be slumped over, unconscious, and a very aggrieved-looking German mutant.

Erik looks up, his face both angry and relieved. "Charles," he murmurs, and comes to stand in front of the cell door. He reaches out to grasp the bars, and Charles can tell how much it physically pains him not to be able to feel the metal intimately, the way his mutation has always allowed him to. "I thought ... I was worried you'd never come," Erik confesses, his voice soft. "It's just, it's been so long."

Charles looks vaguely aggrieved. "We only just realized you were gone after a few hours," he frowns.

Erik's brow furrowed. "I've kept track, Charles. I've been here for over two months."

Suddenly, Charles remembers yet another quirk of Narnia: The passage of time. He pinches his brow between two fingers. "Oh, yes. My bad."

Erik shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and Charles notices now how dirty his clothing is, his worn face. "So I suppose you have a plan for getting us out of here without the use of our powers, hmmm, Professor?"

Charles blinks. He didn't in so many words, really, but ... "Have you still got your knife from when we met on the submarine that night?" he asks casually. Slowly, Erik produces it. "Thank you," Charles says sincerely, and then, without warning, he whips around and stabs the creature guarding him through the chest. It gives a dull roar and then falls to the ground, blood pooling around the open wound and soaking into its clothing, staining its armor. Gingerly, Charles walks over and picks a strange, large key off of its person, and uses it to free Erik from his cage. "Should we take him with us?" he asks, pointing at the still-unconscious faun thing.

Erik wrinkles his nose. "No. He, uh. He's the reason I'm here." An image comes unbidden to Charles' mind of being a small boy and drinking tea in a snowy forest. It sends a chill down his spine. He shakes his head to clear it and recloses the cell, the faun still inside.

It's easy enough to return to the others, though Emma balks to see Erik walking free. "Seize him!" she orders the other creature, and that's when Charles notices that she's fingering a long, thin stick, a staff of some sort. "I bet she can still use her powers because of that," he murmurs to Erik, and the other man does not have to be told twice. Soon enough, the rest of the team joins in, Alex and Raven both pretty good at fighting even without any kind of mutation at their disposal, and Hank and Sean doing their best to compensate. "Hey, hey, come get me!" Sean yells at Emma, allowing Erik to sneak up the stairs behind her to get at the staff. Meanwhile, Hank finds success in simply tripping the other creature, which Charles then knifes, allowing it to meet a similar fate as its partner.

Everyone looks up when they hear a loud, splintering sound, and collectively notice Erik, holding the now-two-pieced staff in his hands after cracking it over his knee. "You asshole!" Emma hollars, but Erik just chucks the pieces at her.

"Tell Shaw we're coming for him," Erik hisses at her, his eyes murderous. "You tell him that to his face, Frost."

"Fine, I will," Emma yells, but it's at Erik's retreating back. Charles gives her a little salute and she stamps her foot. "You're a smug dick, Charles Xavier! You're as bad as Aslan!"

"What's an Aslan?" Sean asks Charles once they're out of earshot. "And are we ever going to talk about the fact that Charles just totally killed two people in cold blood? And that it was awesome?"

Charles sighs. "No, we're not," he says. "And I don't care about Aslan. Let's just go home."


End file.
